


Twisted Hand of Fate

by Catw00man



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Community: fma_slashfest, Future Fic, M/M, Post Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-11
Updated: 2013-07-11
Packaged: 2017-12-19 04:17:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/879368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Catw00man/pseuds/Catw00man
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Even after a lifetime together some secrets are kept nearly to the grave. These are the consequences.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Twisted Hand of Fate

**Author's Note:**

> Ok, so I have to be honest this is something that’s always been in the back of my mind ever since Ed used his own life force as a Philosopher’s Stone. What would the consequences be and did he ever tell anyone? This whole thing came out of that idea and I’ll apologize in advance for the angst! ;-)
> 
> This was written for the 2013 round of [fma-slashfest](http://fma-slashfest.livejournal.com/) on livejournal for the prompt: _Roy/Ed: I’d trade all my tomorrows for just one yesterday._

This wasn’t how things were supposed to go. 

That one thought is probably the biggest understatement of his life, but somehow he relives it at least a dozen or more times a day. Thankfully after today he won’t have to hide that fact nearly as much, not that he’s probably done a very good job of it anyway. Things were already in motion for him to dissolve the Fuhrership and cede ruling the country to the elected Parliament long before everything went wrong. He’ll still be around in a consulting capacity, but he doubts that will go on for long. After today he’s technically free and that fact alone was supposed to mean something.

But it doesn’t and it never will again.

Roy looks in the large mirror over the dark wood dresser that’s been his ever since he became the Fuhrer. The Parliament has said there’s no rush for him to leave the compound, but at the same time they aren’t quite sure what to do with him. There’s never been a retired Fuhrer before and with no one to take his place there’s no urgency to force him out. Most likely he’ll be allowed to live out the rest of his life here if he wants, but that’s never been his intention. He’d thought he’d have been traveling the world soon, but now he’s considering settling down in a small farm town in the the East. Somehow that almost feels right…though in his heart he knows nothing will ever be _right_ again.

He hardly recognizes the man looking back at him from the mirror. The uniform he knows, it’s been a constant over the years, but the face in the glass reflection is a complete stranger. He remembers when the gray started at his temples, just a little salt and pepper that finally made him look older and more dignified—much more so than that horrible little mustache he tried back in Ishval. But now silvery white is the predominant color in his longish hair with only a few dark strands here and there to remind him of who he once was. How did the time slip away so quickly, running away unnoticed like water disappearing through sand?

Roy smooths his hair back with both hands to tie it up as he always has for formal occasions but then stops halfway. This will be his last occasion like this but somehow he can’t seem to make the old gesture. Before he would have relished styling it back only for the fact he knew how it would be coming down. That will never happen the same way again and now he can’t force his fingers to obey. It’s no matter. After today no one will care if his hair was in long messy spikes or not. 

He turns away from the mirror and looks over the room that’s as foreign to him now as the first day he moved into it. The opulence of this place was never much to his tastes despite the fact he’s always appreciated nice things. It was one thing to appreciate fine clothes, but the office of the Fuhrer went way too far, especially for a country just barely finding its feet again. He’ll be glad to leave all this behind, all except for one precious thing.

Roy makes his way over to the large four poster bed which was always his favorite luxurious concession. He sits on the side and his eyes lock on the gleaming metal that he’ll never spend a day without. It’s all he has left of the life that was meant to be and he reaches out to trace the familiar lines of cold steel. It’s nothing but hard metal now but with one touch he remembers a lifetime of tenderness and warmth he knew would always go on. 

How did time go by so fast? Why didn’t he see sooner? He should’ve known, somehow he should’ve known. 

Roy laces his fingers with the heavy automail ones and imagines there’s still life and strength in the hand he knew as well as his own. In the end the heavy steel was just too much for his body to carry. They tried carbon fiber but even that ended up being too much in the last weeks. No one except his mechanic knew he kept this, but there was no way he couldn’t. Without it he knows there’s no way he’d ever be able to go on. It’s nothing the same but he’ll never sleep another night without the feeling of cold steel held tight against his cheek.

This wasn’t the way it was supposed to happen. 

It’s something he knew from day one when that amazing blond fireball of an alchemist finally broke down all his barriers and stormed his way into his heart. Roy had so many excuses, so many reasons why it wouldn’t work, but he heard none of them as he busted in and stole his heart away. He never expected to love anyone, not beyond duty and camaraderie, but Ed changed all of that with a will as strong and stubborn as the cool automail he now cherishes in his hand. He still remembers the day he finally gave in, giving up his heart and soul in a way he never intended because he was always certain of one thing.

He’d never be alone.

It was a selfish thought and one he never spoke aloud, but with their age difference it was bound to happen. He was to be the Fuhrer, a potentially marked man, and he was older, enough that age should have taken him first. But he didn’t know everything. He didn’t know what the Gate had done or that he’d used his own damn life as a Philosopher’s Stone. That was a secret Ed kept until he couldn’t hide it anymore. If only Roy had known, he would’ve done things differently, but he knows that’s exactly why Ed never told him. He wanted him to accomplish all his goals. But what Ed never knew was the one goal he yearned for more than anything that now will never come true. It seems they both had their secrets in the end.

How could Roy have ever known that his lover, his soul mate so virile and strong, so indomitable in each and every way had an expiration put on his life? Never did he ever dream he’d see his love grow old and weak before his eyes. It’s not how it was supposed to happen. _He_ was the one that was supposed to go first! This wasn’t supposed to happen!

Roy snatches the automail limb from the side table and crushes it to his chest as hot tears slide down his cheeks. If he’d only known. If Ed had only told him he would’ve rushed things, found a successor sooner, given them more _time_. In the end all they got were a few weeks to say good bye, a few weeks that could _never_ be enough. He wanted to give him so much more. He wanted to travel with him and love him and finally be able to give himself completely the way Ed always did to him. That was the goal, the promise he made to himself he’ll never be able to keep. He thought they had so much more time!

All these years he gauged the time they had left by his own impending mortality. It should’ve been enough. It should’ve been _more_ than enough and only now does he know how selfish he was being. He was planning to leave Ed the way he is now and maybe this is his punishment for that secret sin. But he would’ve given him more. They would’ve been together. It was the plan….

That will never be.

Roy closes his eyes when the silent sobs hit and he doesn’t care about the ceremony or who might find him this way. Pretense and image are nothing to him anymore. He buried them and so much more in the cold ground in Resembool. It should be spring time there now and that’s where he’ll be soon enough. That’s where he’ll live the end of his days by the one who should still be beside him.

His hands slide over familiar, loved metal and his mind turns to a long forgotten array. Maybe when he gets there he’ll find that old patch of ground that’s long since grown over from being scorched to the earth a lifetime ago. Maybe he’ll carve that array in dirt or flame and try the one thing he swore he never would. He knows there’s a price, but if he could just have one day, just one more moment of yesterday he wouldn’t need any more. 

He’s paid his debt to this country with his entire life. Now maybe it’s time to take just one thing for himself. Either way he needs to find the other side of that Gate once more and he doesn’t care that it’ll be a one way trip. It’s the only place left there is to go.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and concrit are always loved and appreciated! ;-)


End file.
